Blog 22: If all is contained within the ALL, then why isn’t shallow or mundane ok?

It took me a long time to realize I had a strong fear toward being shallow. Stuff had to be meaningful, deep—you know? And by stuff, I mean everything: conversations, relationships, my work, other people’s work I came in contact with … food, fabrics … all da stuff.

There couldn’t be any loss of time in this life. Only quality.

So I climbed that ladder—this internal standard I had inherited or absorbed (from the Germans, probably)—until I couldn’t find the everyday anymore.

This standard created a lot of judgement towards other people, but more than anything, towards myself. I couldn’t “just be.” Everything had to become something. Every interaction was either moving me forward or keeping me stuck. Every choice was laced with pressure. Every hour needed to prove its worth.

That’s no way to live. That’s a machine. A loop I thought was a path.

But lately—and maybe it’s age, grace, or the weariness of the soul—I’ve been letting the shallow in. The mundane. I’ve been letting the not-deep touch me.

And the shocking thing is: it feels soft.

More so, it became clear how my seeking for depth turned into a subtle inner rule I didn’t know I was living by: If I’m going to speak, create, post, write, show up … it better be worth it. 

It better carry weight. Value. Transformation. Otherwise, why take up space?

And that became a shadow of its own: The assumption that space is earned. That I must be sacred enough, impactful enough, before I can place something down and say, “Here. I made this.”

Which, ironically, creates more pressure than presence.

So then I started to wonder—if all is truly contained within the ALL … then who says the sacred is only housed in the deepest things? Everything has its own frequency. I’m not meant to turn every interaction into a portal, every word into poetry. Sometimes, the most spiritual thing I can do is laugh at a bad joke or forget why I walked into a room.

So yes! It’s beyond ok for the ordinary to be sacred.

From there, it became so clear:

What if taking up space isn’t something I have to “deserve”—but something that regulates the whole field, simply by me letting it be simple?

Maybe I don’t need to carry the weight of clarity and insight with every offering. Maybe sometimes, showing up unpolished is its own type of prayer.

So this is a quiet rebellion.

A post about nothing very big. Except perhaps that “small” is enough. And I’m allowed to speak—even if no one claps. Even if it’s not the deepest thing I’ve ever said. Even if it doesn’t prove how meaningful I am.

Because presence doesn’t require proof. 

And space doesn’t need permission.